From the Orchestra Pit
by sabresrthebest
Summary: Victoria Daae is the older sister of Christine, watching her emerging star of a sister from the orchestra pit. She made a promise to her father to protect her sister from harm, but will she be willing to give up her own freedom to keep that promise?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Anything or anyone that is not in the movie, I own. **

**Well, this is my first stab at Phantom FF, I hope I do well! And I also hope to not make this the standard: 'Christine has a sister, what will happen?' So shoot me a review, and let me know how I'm doing! Enjoy!**

**And P.S. : I have seen a professional stage production of the show, so I do know that the sequence of events was changed for the movie….I chose to file this under the movie because the sequence will be pretty close to the same.**

**From the Orchestra Pit…..**

**Paris, 1911**

The day was a dismal one in the bustling city of Paris, France. The sun hid behind the billowing clouds, and in the wind there was the smell of rain.

A woman holding a young girl's hand made her way down the streets, passing people, vendors, and flinching at the occasional sound of a horn honked by an angry driver. At times, the little girl struggled to keep up with her mother's demanding pace, jumping to make up the distance between her tiny steps and her mother's strides.

Within another minute or two, the mother and child arrived at their destination, an old, worn down gothic building close to the heart of the city. Above the doors in golden letters were the words 'Opera Populaire', and the walls surrounding the structure bore the deteriorating remnants of advertising posters for _Don Juan Triumphant_, the last opera that was ever performed in the magnificent building. With a gentle hand, the mother led her daughter up the wooden ramp that covered what was left of the stone steps.

The main hall of the building was laden with cobwebs and dismal memories of the night that all hell broke loose. The night that seemed to bring the end of the world upon the performers and audience of the Opera Populaire. Despite the disaster occurring years ago, the hall made it seem like the last performance was the previous night, and the smell of smoke enhanced the image in the woman's mind. It was a slightly different experience for the child, as she pressed on without a word, leading her mother for a time into the auditorium.

The stage was deteriorating, the curtains were tattered skeletons of what once existed, and the once beautiful gold statues adorning the boxes were barely recognizable.

"Sold! Your number, sir?...Thank you." The auctioneer said rather calmly, as his assistant brought the newly purchased advertising poster to its' new owner.

By the time the woman and her daughter were up on stage with the crowd, the auctioneer was offering another item. While her daughter was curiously watching the assistant show the item, her mother took the opportunity to look around the hall again. She sighed as she looked at the ceiling, where the magnificent chandelier once hung, before the disaster. The once lovely paintings of angels flying around the domed roof were barely visible now, and there were quite a few holes. The seats in the area were charred, and the barrier separating the orchestra pit from the audience no longer existed.

Her attention was once again turned to the auction when the sound of a hammer reached her ears.

"Sold to the Vicomte de Chagny, thank you sir."

As the assistant placed the item in his hands, the woman had to restrain herself from gasping. It was the music box. The monkey, with the cymbals, and everything. She remembered.

While the Vicomte delicately fingered the monkey's robes, he felt a pair of eyes on him, and looked up to see a woman in a long, hooded cloak, holding a little girl's hand. Although he could not see her face due to the cloak's hood, he could see a lock of wavy brown hair that had slipped from underneath it. His mouth opened slightly, wanting to say something to her, but words failed him. He could not say anything, as he had nothing to say. The memories were too painful.

"Lot 666 ladies and gentlemen, a chandelier in pieces…." 

The Vicomte de Chagny stopped fingering the Persian robes the monkey wore, and looked at the auctioneer. The woman in the cloak only gulped.

The auctioneer continued: "Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera….a mystery never really explained….." 

The woman bit her lip to keep herself from crying. She allowed herself to steal a glance at the man in the wheelchair, who also looked moved at the words of the auctioneer.

"Well, our workshops have restored it, and wired it for the new electric light. And, ladies and gentlemen, we are also told that this very chandelier is the one that was a part of the famous disaster!"

The little girl felt her mother squeeze her hand tightly, and her brow furrowed, as she did not know why.

"Perhaps we can frighten away the beast from so many years ago with a little light. Shall we, gentlemen?"

With a miraculous flash, the chandelier was uncovered, and the men hoisted it so that all of its' tiers could hang. The magnificent object certainly showed its' age, but to the man and the woman it was the same.

"May I start the bidding at one hundred Francs?"

The Vicomte could not speak, he could only remember. He was almost hypnotized by the hanging object, as he never thought he would see it again in his lifetime.

The woman was ready to break down at this point, so she tugged at her daughter's hand: "Come, Erika."

The Vicomte immediately looked over upon hearing the little girl's name, and finally saw her face. It was a delicate face, with thick black hair, pale white skin, and dark eyes. He knew those eyes. He knew them like the back of his hand.

The little girl offered him a smile, one which he half-heartedly returned. He then turned back to the auctioneer for a brief moment, before curiosity got the better of him. He _had _ to know who the woman in the cloak was.

However, when he turned to look once more, they were gone. All that remained where they once stood was a hairpin in the shape of a treble clef.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: Chapter 1**

**Chapter 2**

**Paris, 1881**

"Estelle dear, that is a D- Flat. Be careful." Victoria Daae advised her young cello student. She paced around the grand room of the house, listening to Estelle play her rendition of Gabriel Faure's 'Elegy".

"Oh…sorry mameselle." Estelle quickly apologized, scratching a marking in her part.

"Oh no, no, no, Estelle," her mother, Madame Morteaux, began, "Not 'mameselle', 'mademoiselle'."

"Yes Mother." The young girl sighed.

Victoria had to cover her mouth to hide a chuckle that was threatening to escape. Daae was quite fond of both Madam Odette Morteaux and her daughter, as they were always so kind to her. "From the beginning of the piece, please, Estelle."

"Yes _Mademoiselle _Daae." The girl replied with somewhat of an attitude, trying to prove to her mother that she did indeed know how to speak her native language.

Victoria laughed, and Odette smiled at her daughter. Estelle played the few lines of the piece she was assigned the previous week rather well, and for the most part, Victoria was pleased. "Good work, Estelle."

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Daae."

"You are very welcome," Victoria smiled, picking up the pencil that was on the stand and marking a few more lines, "This is what I'd like to hear next week."

"Okay!"

"There's a good girl."

Estelle smiled in only a way a young girl could, and Odette led Victoria down the stairs of the manor they lived in to the front door. "Thank you, once again Mademoiselle Daae."

After thanking the man who brought her overcoat, Victoria put it on while saying: "You're most welcome, Madame Morteaux."

Victoria was passed the sum of money they agreed on, and Odette looked to her. "How is the Opera?"

"Lovely, Madam, thank you for asking."

"What is the new production?"

"_Hannibal_," Victoria began, "Performances start tonight, actually."

"Ah, wonderful! We will have to come and see a performance!"

"I can get you some tickets if you'd like." Victoria offered, while laughing, as Estelle was amusing herself with the hanging tie that wrapped around her overcoat.

"That would be marvelous, dear."

The grandfather clock in the house chimed four, and Victoria's eyes grew large: "Speaking of the opera, I'm late! I'll see you next week, merci, Madam, et au revoir Estelle!"

"Bye!" the little girl called out, as her mother waved.

"Zut, zut, zut!" Victoria exclaimed, as she practically ran down the streets, receiving odd glances from the rich individuals who lived in the area.

By the time she arrived at the Opera Populaire, she was well over fifteen minutes late, and panting from the run.

When she practically fell up the stairs, she was saved by a hand on her arm. "Victoria! Are you quite alright?"

"Yes," she managed to say, "I'm fine Felix."

Felix Brouchard was a violinist in the orchestra, who Victoria was great friends with. They first met each other when Victoria and her sister came to live at the opera house. "Here, let me get that for you."

Victoria nodded in thanks as Felix took her overcoat. Smoothing down her dress, she asked: "How late am I?"

"Very."

"Dommage….."

"Ah, just kidding. Reyer hasn't even started rehearsal yet."

Victoria looked at Felix strangely: "Why in the world not? I'm sure La Carlotta is having a fit…."

"With all due respect, Mademoiselle Daae, when is she not?"

Daae smiled as she and Felix scaled the stairs to get down the winding halls and to the stage without causing a big disturbance. Carrying her instrument, Felix held the door in order for her to pass, and they walked down the aisles to get to the orchestra pit. Thankfully, Maestro Reyer was up on stage, complaining about something, giving Victoria the opportunity to sneak into the pit unnoticed.

"Where were you…? Reyer will…!" The violist, Jean-Claude, began to fret.

Victoria held up a hand: "Monsieur Reyer might not know."

"But…." 

"Ah! Hush, Jean-Claude. Now what did I miss?"

He shrugged: "Not much…actually, we barely got through the one number we were supposed to polish up today."

"Why did I expect nothing less?"

Before the violist could answer, the stage was in a great commotion, as two men had just appeared on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Reyer called, trying to get the attention of the orchestra, the ballet girls, and the chorus onstage. After a few minutes, all was quiet, allowing the Maestro to speak: "After the manager's recent retirement, I am privileged to announce the new owners of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Gilles Andre, and Monsieur Richard Firmin."

Victoria's eyebrows furrowed. _New owners? Why new owners? Well they look harmless enough…..never mind. It doesn't affect you, not that much at least. You're a cellist. Not a star._

The taller of the two men spoke next: "And privileged we are indeed, to introduce our new _patron_, the Vicomte de Chagny!"

As the young man joined the two new owners, Victoria wracked her mind for an answer. She knew him. She remembered long ago, when her father was still alive, he would visit she and her sister. Christine and the Vicomte, Raoul, had become exceedingly close, until their father's death, when they were separated. Thinking of Christine, Victoria's blue eyes scoured the stage, until she sighted her little sister whispering quietly with her friend, Meg Giry.

"And I am honored, good sirs, to be involved in the world renown Opera Populaire!"

Out of respect, the orchestra applauded with the stage personnel, as the diva herself stepped forward.

"Allow me to introduce Carlotta Giudicelli, lead soprano for five seasons!" Reyer boasted proudly, although his orchestra knew he loathed the woman.

She curtsied, and the lead tenor, Ubaldo Piangi, joined her, introduced himself, and bowed.

"Now sirs, if you would kindly sit down or step to one side….rehearsal needs to…."

"Nonsense!," Firmin objected, "we must celebrate! Rehearsal can start in an hour! Andre and myself need to get acquainted with the area, and meet our chorus!"

"Ooooh," Reyer groaned, "Alright, but only an hour, you hear?"

"Yes, Maestro."

Reyer reluctantly walked offstage as the room exploded into chaos. Taking the golden opportunity, Victoria gently set her cello down, and went onto the stage to find Christine.

"Victoria!"

Upon hearing Christine's voice, she walked over with a smile, giving her sister a kiss on both cheeks.

"I see you finally decided to show up to rehearsal….I noticed your absence."

"Oh hush, Christine. Bonjour, Meg. How are you?"

Meg smiled and dipped her head, "Fine, Victoria. Yourself?"

"I could be better." Leaning in close, Victoria whispered, "What do you think of the new managers?"

Meg and Christine both shrugged: "All I can say is poor Maestro."

"And guess who he'll take it out on." Victoria sighed, looking back at the orchestra pit to see the bassoonist getting reprimanded for something or another.

"The wonderful orchestra of course!"

Victoria smiled, and then looked to Christine: "Soo…..Raoul is here…."

Blushing, her younger sister quickly silenced her.

"Oh Christine, he's so handsome!" Meg exclaimed, causing Christine's cheeks to turn from a delicate pink into a blaring red.

"We know."

"Meg!" Her mother called, walking towards the three girls.

Victoria adored Meg's mother, Madame Giry. The older woman had showed extreme kindness when the Daae girls lost their father, and, taking them under her own wing, brought them to the Opera Populaire. Madame Giry was practically Christine and Victoria's mother, as well as Meg's.

"Madame Giry." Victoria dipped her head with a smile.

"Ah, Victoria. How are you, my child? Out of breath, I'm thinking?"

Victoria chuckled nervously. Apparently the older woman knew about her tardiness. "I apologize, Madame."

"C'est d'accord, my dear. Meg, if you would be so kind as to come with me."

The girl nodded, and bidding farewell to her friends, she followed her mother to the back of the stage, where the other ballet girls were currently practicing.

"Do you think he would remember me, Victoria?" her sister asked, looking at the young, handsome Vicomte she knew so well.

Victoria Daae smiled: "I think he would, Christine. I honestly thi-" 

Her sentence was interrupted by a terrible shriek. The whole room was immediately silenced, and one of the chorus girls ran back on stage, face as white as a ghost. "He's here! The Phantom!"

Andre and Firmin, who were socializing with the Vicomte, looked completely confused. "What? Phantom? There are no such things as ghosts….."

"He's not a ghost! I saw him with my own eyes!"

With a roll of the eyes, Firmin explained: "I'm convinced you're all insane."

"You think that already, Monsieur?" Madame Giry asked, emerging from the shadows.

"Who are you?"

"I, sir, am Madame Giry, the ballet instructor, I have a message for you, sir."

"From who?"

"The Opera Ghost."

Andre groaned: "Not already! Not today, we haven't even been here an hour!"

Victoria and Christine exchanged worried glances, as they knew where this was going. The whole stage was panicked, and it didn't look like anyone was going to settle down soon. Staring behind the curtains, Victoria swore she saw a black cloak swirl. "One moment, Christine."

"Victoria, where are you going?"

When her sister didn't answer, Christine called her name again, to receive no response.

Victoria was wandering in the dark back hallway of the stage, where she saw the cloak. Her breathing was heavy, and nervous, Preparing herself to run away if she needed to. Just as she rounded a corner, a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder. Letting out a cry, she spun around, only to be greeted by Felix's face.

"Victoria, what are you doing?"

"A cloak..I saw it….."

"Victoria, come, there is no such thing as the 'Opera Ghost'."

As her friend led her away, she looked to the corridor against, hearing a sinister laugh.

"Stop being so jittery, Victoria. Come now, rehearsal is starting."

"So soon?"

"Yes, Reyer convinced Monsieurs Firmin and Andre to let him continue, It is gala night, after all."

"Oh yes, of course." Victoria said, regaining her composure on the outside. However, she knew what she saw, and her gut was telling her that there was something lurking in the shadows of the stage.

Victoria Daae's gut was never wrong.

**There you go, Chapter 2! Review, please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, I haven't been here in forever…I know. I'm sorry. Things get really really busy. Anyways…for all of you who have alerted/faved this, could you please leave me something? It so makes my day when I get a review :) **

**Disclaimer: Chapter 1**

**Chapter 3**

"Places, please everyone! We haven't the time to relax!" Reyer exclaimed, as he tried to calm everyone down in order to retain some authority for rehearsal.

Within a few moments, the entire ensemble had quieted on the stage, and Andre raised his hand sheepishly.

"Yes, Monsieur?" Reyer asked, a bit annoyed at the interruption.

"Would you be able to, perhaps, as a favor, highlight the expertise of your leading soprano?"

Reyer nodded: "Mademoiselle, the beginning of the aria, s'il vous plait."

Upon hearing Reyer's command, Victoria flipped open the lengthy bound book of music in front of her to the song he was speaking of, _Think Of Me_. It was one of Victoria's favorites, and it aggravated her so to hear such an arrogant woman sing it. The music was the work of a genius, and when it was played it seemed as if there was always a presence beside Victoria, a hand on top of her own aiding the movement of her nimble fingers. After reaching for her bow that was beside her, Victoria graced her blue eyes upon the Maestro, waiting for the cue. Once it was given, the orchestra pit erupted into a tune of simple yet pure beauty, one that spoke of innocence and the longing of love.

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said good bye…"

Victoria, hard as she tried, could not block out the sound of Carlotta's voice. Sighing to herself, she continued to play, and also accepted the fact that no one else was ever going to sing soprano at the Opera Populaire while she was an employee.

Victoria Daae continued to play, trying to ignore her surroundings and be absorbed by the music, but her present state of mind was interrupted by a crack and several shrieks. Her eyes were immediately torn from her music and guided up to the stage, where she saw one of the curtain rods come crashing down on La Carlotta, knocking her down.

"Mademoiselle!" Reyer screamed, not even bothering to cut off the orchestra before running up onstage.

`"Get me up! Get me up!" Carlotta was screaming to the ensemble.

"Buquet! What in the devil's name is going on up there?" Reyer shouted to the stage manager, who was frantically running about in the rafters trying to figure out what had happened.

"I swear sir, I don't know!"

Reyer groaned as Carlotta began to scream, ultimately firing herself. Andre and Firmin could do nothing but stare after the diva as she stomped out of the opera house, and Monsieur Reyer was too busy having a nervous breakdown over the situation to help.

"Will she be coming back?"

"I don't know, Andre." Firmin sighed.

"It's a full house. A full house we'll have to refund!"

Out of nowhere, the voice of Madame Giry sounded: "Christine Daae could sing it."

At the mention of her sister's name, Victoria was once again drawn in to the conversation. She knew Christine was a talented dancer, and could tap a few notes out on piano, but she didn't know that Christine had a strong enough voice to follow in Carlotta's footsteps.

"Madame Giry, with all due respect, this will help nothing….."

"Oh, hush Reyer, and go get ready."

Monsieur Reyer did indeed grumble as he once again walked back to his orchestra and raised his baton. "The beginning please, mademoiselle."

Victoria's eyes were still on her sister as Madame Giry brought her to the center of the stage. Christine looked frightened, and as the music started, her voice came out quiet and timid. Madame Giry gave her a motherly pat on the back, and Christine's voice erupted into a strong, glorious one, fit for a goddess. Although Victoria had since then been looking at the music, a smile graced her well-shaped lips, exposing her white teeth. Felix had noticed from where he sat, and shot her a wink, as he knew how proud Victoria was of Christine.

Upon the end of the last note, the stage and pit exploded into rowdy cheers, all those in the Corps de Ballet running towards their own. Christine greeted each one with a hug, and it was confirmed that she was to take the part of La Carlotta in the production of _Hannibal._

The festivities lasted for a bit of time, and Reyer dismissed the orchestra earlier than usual, giving them more time to prepare for that night's performance. Victoria wandered down the halls alone, as she usually did before a show, as to prepare herself.

Many thoughts crossed her mind, from the most basic to the most complex, until she finally thought of the black cloak she had seen earlier.

"_Why, Miss Daae, you seem to think of me more than you realize."_ An echoing voice sounded. Victoria stopped in her tracks upon hearing it, and she immediately became unsure if she was hearing things or if what she was hearing was real.

"_I can assure you, I am quite real."_

Victoria's breath grew heavy as goose bumps began to crawl up her arms. She gulped, and spoke: "Who are you? What do you want?"

"_You already know who I am. As to what I want, you will figure out in time."_

"But, I do not know you! Victoria protested. "Show yourself!"

"_That I cannot do."_

Victoria felt the cold stone wall against her back, and realized that she had been backing up towards the wall of the hallway. "Then tell me what you wish or leave me."

"_What I wish is for me to know and for you to desire."_

"Who are you?" Victoria demanded once more, getting more and more frightened.

No answer came back to her.

"Who are you?" she asked again, this time more quietly, as it was more a question to her than to the voice that had spoken to her moments before.

After no response was given once again, Victoria hitched up her skirts and darted out of the hallway, before running right into Christine,

"Sister," Christine began, stabilizing Victoria, "Are you alright?"

Victoria was still shaking from what she heard, and when she looked into Christine's eyes, she nodded.

"What happened?"

"I know not."

Christine sighed, and took her sister's arm before saying: "Come, we need to get ready."

Victoria said nothing; she just followed her sister's lead. _Whose was the voice? Was it my own voice? Was it someone else? No…it can't be my voice, it was that of a man….._

"Victoria!" Christine called again, as she realized that her sister was far from reality.

"Yes?" she jumped.

"We're here." Christine answered, turning the decorated skeleton key into the ornate door. With a mighty push, the door moved, revealing a stunning bedroom, equipped with everything a star could possibly need.

"Oh Christine, it's wonderful!" Victoria smiled as her sister closed the door.

"Isn't it?"

Victoria hurriedly nodded and walked over to the mirror, studying her reflection. The figure of a slender woman greeted her, with a gentle face, smiling blue eyes, and luscious brown hair that met her waistline.

"Victoria, may I ask you something?"

Her moment of solitude was interrupted by her sister's question. Not wanting to be rude, she turned to face Christine:"Yes, of course, Christine."

"What happened to me, Victoria?"

Slowly walking over to the bed where her younger sister sat, Victoria took the liberty of sitting down next to her. "What do you mean?"

"I can't sing, Victoria. I never could, remember?"

She nodded: "I do remember, yes, but the voice often matures with age."

"I know that, Christine, but I never sing. I don't have a teacher, and I always loathed it. Now…..I want to do it all the time."

Victoria thought as her sister talked. _Perhaps this has something to do with that voice._

"I just don't understand, Victoria."

"None of us do, Christine. What matters is that you like what you're doing."

"And I do."

"Good," Victoria smiled, "Now will you allow me to do your hair?"

Christine smiled and turned so her brown curls were facing Victoria. "Certainly."

Victoria laughed, and allowed herself to look at the large standing mirror once more. She and Christine's reflections weren't the only ones there. "Christine?"

"Yes?"

"Look in the mirror."

Doing her sister's bidding, Christine looked, and saw but their reflections. "Yes?"

"Do you see something?"

Christine raised an eyebrow: "I see you and me, but other than that, I see nothing. Why?"

"No reason." Victoria answered, turning back to her sister's mess of curls.

When her curiosity overwhelmed her, Victoria looked at the mirror once more, but only saw herself and her sister. Whatever was there had disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for reviews!**

**Chapter 4**

"Victoria…are you sure you're quite alright?" Christine asked, as she was still looking in the mirror.

"Yes." Victoria nodded, sighing. She knew she had seen something, but she wasn't sure if that something was a human or a ghost. It was definitely in the shape of a human, but she still had yet to see its' face.

Around a half hour later, Christine's hair was transformed from a mess into a gorgeous stack of brown spirals with delicate crystals placed throughout it. "In a half hour, we meet to warm up."

Christine nodded: "Thank you sister."

Victoria smiled back and pardoned her before walking out of the room and down the hall to where she resided. When she and Christine were little girls, they shared dormitories with the Corps De Ballet, but as Victoria grew into a rather independent woman, Madame Giry recognized her need for a proper bedchamber, and thus, she was granted one.

The room was large enough, with many windows looking out over the bustling streets of Paris. The furniture was a montage of props and actual furniture alike, and everything was arranged perfectly in order, just as Victoria liked it. A long mirror was hung on her wall next to a divider for changing, and a desk was situated nearby, with various pieces of sheet music strewn across it. The only part of her room that was ever messy was her desk, as it was where she threw little musical phrases or ideas that she came up with in her spare time.

Working quickly, as to be on time for warm-up, she quickly walked over to her closet, where her performance dress hung. A pair of long black pants and a fitted suit coat that went down to her mid-thighs greeted her, along with a white undershirt with ruffles at the center of the chest, and boots that had a bit of a heel. She efficiently got dressed and did her hair in a simple style like she always did, as she was in the pit, and therefore could afford not to look perfect.

Standing back, she allowed herself to admire the reflection, smiling smugly as she buttoned the suit coat so the ruffles on the shirt were more prominent. Next, she grabbed a black leather portfolio that rested on a chair, and finally, she exited the room to go meet her sister.

The room they used for practice was in the very back of the opera house, a place where nothing could be heard, as the performers did not want rehearsal to be interrupted by the musicians practicing. Victoria produced another ornate key from her pocket, and with a click, the wooden door opened. The room was pleasant and rather large, about the size of Christine's new dressing room. There was a large grand piano, one with a rich, dark tone that Victoria was particularly fond of. At the opposite end, there was a cage with a locked door, where all the musicians' instruments were stored when they were not needed or being used.

The setting sun peeked in through the few windows, casting an orange glow atop the piano. The click of Victoria's boots was the only sound in the room, as she sat at the piano and placed the portfolio atop the music holder. Waiting for her sister, she tapped a few random notes out, remembering exactly how she became a cellist and not a violinist like her father. It was a difficult decision, and a rather hard one for her father to accept, as the instrumentally gifted daughter chose not to follow in his footsteps. By the time Christine was old enough to be able to play; Gustave Daae had accepted the fact that his second child was not fit to be an instrumentalist.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Victoria wondered where exactly her sister was. In another five minutes, Christine burst through the door, profusely apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Victoria! I lost track of time!"

"With the Vicomte?" Victoria asked, sifting through her papers to find the right selection.

"No…"

"Christine."

"Fine, I was. How did you know?"

"I am your older sister Christine. Believe it or not, I know when you re lying, and I know when you are telling me the truth. Now come, we need to get you warmed up." Victoria said while using her right hand to play a G-Major chord.

Christine nodded and cleared her throat, waiting for instructions.

"Sirens, starting on a G-Flat." Victoria commanded, now using both hands to produce chords.

Although Cello was Victoria's true love, piano was another. She had always loved how the notes blended together, and how effortless playing the instrument looked. Victoria climbed up a scale chromatically, listening to her sister.

"Ah! No, Christine!" she shouted, stopping the music altogether.

"What's wrong, Victoria?"

Victoria could feel a cold presence around her as she spoke: "If you are going to do sirens, please, sing in tune."

"I thought I was….."

"You're about half a tone sharp."

"How do you have such a good ear?" Christine asked. "It's impossible to have as good an ear as you!"

"It's not impossible…when you play an instrument for a living; you'll have a wonderful ear too."

"One can only hope. Now, onwards. C-Natural, please."

Christine nodded, and began her wails again. After all the warm ups were complete, Victoria started to improvise, first with tri-tones, which she then transformed into a heinous sounding melody.

"Victoria?"

"Yes?" she asked, fingers and hands stretching in all different directions.

"Why are you playing with tri-tones?"

"First of all, I'm improvising. Second, because I adore the dissonance they create."

"Why aren't you playing Cello?" Christine asked innocently.

After slamming another chord, Victoria sharply turned: "And why are you asking so many questions?"

Christine shrugged.

As Victoria grumbled, the presence around her became stronger, and it felt as if two arms were snaking around her slender waist, ready to drag her somewhere. "Well you better figure it out."

"Why are you so nasty today?"

"Excuse me?" Victoria asked.

"You heard."

"It is not me who is nasty, it is you who is too overly-inquisitive. Now, Madame Giry and Meg wished to see you, and I must go speak with the Maestro."

Christine nodded. "Thank you, Victoria."

"Good luck, my dear." Victoria smiled, giving her little sister a hug, both for luck and to try and get rid of the presence that she could still feel.

"I love you, Victoria."

"And I love you, Christine." Victoria smiled as her sister exited the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, the room turned hideously cold. "H-hello?"

No answer, but various noises greeted Victoria's ears.

"If it's you from earlier….what do you want? Please, tell me!"

Wind blew through the room, and all of a sudden, a scream, a terrible, terrible scream echoed in Victoria's ears. Whether it was hers or not she did not know, all she knew was that she was too busy running away from the room to notice that she had left her precious black portfolio at the piano.

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all the reviews and favorites! :)**

**Chapter 5**

Many an opera performer looked at Victoria as if she were crazy as they saw her bolting down the hall and away from the tower music room. Victoria Daae usually wasn't that superstitious, and didn't believe in many of the urban legends of the Opera Populaire, specifically, the one referring to the Opera Ghost.

She knew in her cunning mind that she didn't believe it, but her heart told her differently. Something strange was going on at the Paris Opera House, and she was determined to find out what it was, and more importantly, what it wanted.

"Miss Daae!"

Victoria groaned and stopped running before turning around to see the Vicomte rushing towards her: "Please do forgive Christine for her tardiness…..it is all my fault…."

Holding up a hand, Victoria shook her head: "Do not be sorry, Vicomte."

"Raoul, please. We were childhood friends."

"Alright, Raoul. Then no 'Miss Daae'. You know my first name, so use it."

Raoul nodded before looking at Victoria's simple hairstyle. "What is that?"

"What?"

"The sparkly thing."

Victoria smiled, and laughed before responding: "That is a hairpin, molded in the shape of a treble clef. It was my dear mother's."

"Ah. Well, it suits you."

"I appreciate that."

"Do you have much to do before the performance?"

Victoria nodded, half telling the truth, and half lying to get the Vicomte out of her hair. "I always do."

"Well, then I will leave you to your business. Good luck."

"Enjoy!" Victoria said, mustering a smile until he walked off.

Although Victoria did enjoy the company of the Vicomte, she did not appreciate Christine's recent obsession with him. Raoul this, Raoul that. It was all she ever heard, and despite how hard Victoria tried, she could not convince her sister that she'd be a better performer if she stopped thinking about men so much.

Typically, Victoria was not one to lie either. However, Maestro Reyer did not need to speak with her, but she knew she needed to speak to her father. After a bit of a walk, she finally made it to the spiral stone staircase that led down to the small chapel. In the chapel were many empty picture frames with half burned candles. In the other full frames were former owners, patrons, and musicians that had all met rather strange and similar ends.

Sighing deeply, Victoria lit her father's candle, and knelt down in front of it, closing her eyes.

_"But, Father, you can't leave us!" Christine shrieked, trying desperately to hold her tears in, but failing._

_ Gustave Daae mustered a smile as he ruffled Christine's unruly brown curls before saying: "Darling, go with Helga, and let me talk to Tori for a moment."_

_ Christine nodded, and slowly turned towards the maid, who took her hand and led her away._

_ Victoria, with a sincere expression, looked to her father: "Yes?"_

_ "Tori, it's time."_

_ "No, Father. It can't be time. Not yet. I'm not old enough yet, please, NO!"_

_ Gustave smiled and squeezed Victoria's hand to reassure her: "Darling, you are spunky. You are ready for the world."_

_ "No, I'm not. I don't even know how to do anything, Father!"_

_ "You can play your cello."_

_ "I know that, but….."_

_ "And you can play piano…."_

_ "So?" Victoria asked, wondering why her father was wasting his last breaths speaking of this._

_ "So, become a musician. Follow in my footsteps, Tori."_

_ "But a musician is not a lady's job."_

_ "Tori, where is the strong, smart daughter I know I have?"_

_ "She's out today." Victoria said, making her father smile._

_ "Well I guess now she has returned. I wanted to give you something."_

_ Victoria watched her frail father as he carefully retrieved a small bag from the nightstand. After pulling the drawstrings, a lovely hair pin in the shape of a treble clef fell into the palm of his hand. "Oh Father, it's beautiful!"_

_ "It was your mother's," Gustave smiled, "And it's yours now."_

_ "Oh Father, I couldn't…."_

_ "You must. She would have wanted it this way."_

_ Victoria nodded, and her efforts to hold back tears also proved to be useless as they came pouring down her cheeks._

_ "Now my darling, listen. I need you to take care of Christine for me."_

_ "I swear Father, until my dying day, I'll protect her. Nothing will happen to her, I promise you."_

_ "That's my girl."_

_ "But Father?"_

_ "Yes?" Gustave coughed._

_ "Where do I begin? Who do I turn to?"_

_ Gustave gave his daughter's hand another squeeze and answered: "When I am in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to guide you."_

_ Victoria nodded and looked up at the ceiling, thinking for a few moments. "Father?" she asked, before looking down. No answer came. "Father? Father, answer me!" she pleaded, feeling his face for any sign of warmth. His skin was cold, and there was no rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Gustave Daae was dead._

_ "Who is this Angel of Music?" Victoria cried, before resting her head on his still chest and letting the tears flow._

Victoria opened her eyes and a single tear slid down her cheek. The noise of the Opera House had increased, and Victoria knew she had to go back to the tower to get her instrument, but something kept her inside the chapel. Something unknown, something hidden. Carefully, she got up, and smoothed her suit coat before slowly forgetting about her sanity. "H-hello?"

No answer. No sound, no change in temperature, nothing.

Shrugging, she turned around, and shrieked when she saw a man standing there.

"Victoria! Relax, it's me!"

"Oh, Felix. I'm sorry, I was a bit jumpy…."

"I could tell….hey, do you want to go up and get your instrument? I'm going up, and I figured I could use some company."

Victoria managed as much of a smile as she could despite her recent daydream and nodded, while walking out of the chapel with Felix. As she walked down the hall towards the tower, the same question echoed in her mind with each passing step: _Who is this Angel of Music?_

**Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Chapter 1!**

**Thanks for reviews! Come on guys, I have 14 or so favorites….could you please leave me something? Pllleeeaaasse?**

**Chapter 6**

"Victoria? May I ask you something?" Felix wondered, walking next to her down a candlelit hall towards the tower.

"Depends on what that something is, Felix?" Victoria joked, smiling.

"It's a rather serious question…," he began, before stopping, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her so she'd look at him, "Are you alright? Today, especially, you have seemed different. Ever since the scare on stage about some ridiculous Opera Ghost legend."

Victoria gulped: "I'm not sure if it is a legend, Felix."

Her companion laughed a hearty laugh as they continued their walk. "Oh Victoria, there is no such thing. It's impossible. And where does this ghost reside when he's not out haunting?"

"In the catacombs, I guess."

"That's just it. There are no catacombs, Victoria. That's the stuff you read in a fantasy novel. Not see with your own eyes."

Victoria shrugged as they began to climb the spiral staircase to the tower. "I guess it depends on the person, Felix."

"Does your sister believe in this nonsense?"

"I do not know. She spends all her time with Raoul DeChangy now that he is the patron."

"That for some reason does not surprise me."

"It shouldn't," Victoria said as they reached the door, "Here, I have the key."

Felix, before Victoria could open it, tried the knob, and to his surprise, the door opened. "Hm….that's odd…..it's usually locked."

Victoria nodded and agreed, although she knew exactly why the door wasn't locked. She mentally slapped herself for being so careless, and followed Felix in.

"Wow, this place needs a good dusting." Felix remarked, looking around. He proceeded to the cage where the instruments were kept, and sighed again when he saw another padlock. "Do you have the key for this too?"

Victoria nodded, and her heels clicked in a very authoritative fashion as she walked over, while sorting through her keys. "Ah, here it is."

"Thanks. Why does Reyer trust you with everything?"

"Because I'm a trustworthy individual, Felix. You generally don't find me panicking…." Victoria began to say as she felt that same cold air surround her.

Felix, who had retrieved his violin and her cello, looked at her: "What?"

"We need to leave. We need to leave now."

Felix laughed: "Why?"

"Trust me…."

Felix shook his head and padlocked the instruments before walking over to her. Noticing the portfolio on the piano, he grabbed it, and looked inside the cover before handing it to his friend: "It's yours."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. The portfolio that Felix offered her was blood red, not black like the one she owned. Nevertheless, she took it, and opened the front cover. Inscribed in gold lettering were the words: _Property of Miss Victoria Lynne Daae_. "Uh…thanks."

"Now what's this about us leaving?"

"Yes. We need to, now." Victoria said, before hurrying out of the room.

"Wait! I have two instruments here!" Felix called, slamming the door shut behind him as he rushed to keep up with Victoria.

All the while she walked down the stairs, wondering what had happened to her precious black portfolio…and about the cold air. However, it was impossible to think with Felix clambering down the hall behind her.

The two friends arrived just in time for Maestro Reyer's pre-show talk. As usual, it was long, pointless, and boring. During the speech, Victoria couldn't help but wonder about what Felix had said of the story. It couldn't be an urban legend. Not with what happened earlier. She knew she saw a black cloak, she knew the seal on the note matched the color of the portfolio that she held in her delicate hands. Red. The color of hell.

After Reyer excused himself, Felix turned to Victoria once again and said: "Jean-Claude and I are going for some food after the show. Would you like to come with us?"

"Certainly! Thanks for the invite, and for bringing my cello down."

"Your welcome." Felix smiled, while passing her the large case.

Finding her own separate corner, Victoria opened the many latches on the case and began to spread some rosin over the taught horsehair on her bow. All the while, she heard the air whisper: _Good luck, Miss Daae. You have been well groomed for this part._

Well groomed for this part? What was that supposed to mean to her? _Well taught, I suppose._ She concluded, getting the instrument out for tuning. After a quick tune, all was well, and she was ready.

Precisely two hours later, backstage was one giant party, as the show had been extraordinarily successful. After putting her instrument away, Victoria sighted Christine, and ran over, giving her little sister a well-deserved hug. "Congratulations, Christine."

"Oh, thank you Victoria!"

"You sang like an absolute angel!"

"I couldn't hear you, but you played like one. You always did, and forever shall."

Victoria smiled, and heard Felix call for her. "Excuse me."

"Come on, Victoria!" Felix waved, with Jean-Claude at his side.

"I'm coming, Felix! Hello, Jean."

"Hello yourself Victoria. Congratulations on a wonderful opening night."

"You as well, gentlemen."

\

"Did you put our stuff away?" Felix asked Victoria.

"No, someone else was supposed to….there they are now!" Victoria exclaimed.

Felix and Jean nodded before turning to leave. Victoria instinctively turned to make sure everything was alright, and gasped when she saw a tall, well-built man with a black cloak grab onto her cello.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys….22 alerts? That is absolutely wonderful, and I'm glad you all like this story, but sometimes I feel as if I'm writing for a brick wall. Reviews are what keep writers going. More reviews, the more the writer writes, because they learn to crave feedback. Once they have feedback, they want to please their readers even more by providing them with longer chapters and a better plot. Get the point? Thanks : )**

**Thanks for what reviews I do get, however. I'm grateful for each and every one.**

**Onward!**

**Chapter 7**

Victoria, Felix, and Jean all wandered out of the Opera Populaire, working quickly in order to pass excited fans and frustrated guards. Despite the fun night she was about to have with her friends, Victoria couldn't help but feel concerned about what had happened right before they left. That man. That man who had picked up her instrument….something didn't look right about him to her, and she was absolutely determined to find out what that was.

Felix began to notice her mental absence, and stopped in his tracks. "Victoria!"

"Huh! Oh…..I apologize, Felix."

"We have things to talk about, come on." He said, grabbing her hand while pulling her into the pub they had come across.

Jean, on the other hand, was utterly confused at the exchange, as he had absolutely no concept of what had happened earlier in the tower between his two companions.

Upon entering the pub, Victoria coughed, as the foul stench of cigars mixed with beer filled her nose. The place was packed to the brim, yet Felix's sharp eye spotted a booth in the corner, secluded, with a candle atop the table for light. They moved quickly, obtaining the table before anyone else could even have a shot. Victoria sat in the middle, with Felix at her left side, and Jean sitting across from him, at her right.

After the waitress took their order, Jean looked between Victoria and Felix. "Alright, so what is all this about?"

"Je ne sais pas," Felix shrugged, "Ask Victoria."

"Victoria?"

She sighed as she brushed some of her dark hair out of her face. "I don't know, frankly."

"With all due respect, Victoria, you've been acting rather strangely lately…" Felix trailed.

Before she could answer, the waitress brought three large mugs of ale and set them down on the table. After thanking her, Felix slid one to each of his friends before raising the mug up. "To friends, pleasure, and opera!"

Victoria and Jean laughed as they knocked mugs with Felix before drinking some ale themselves. Victoria Daae had always been fond of ale, and after taking a sip, she licked her upper lip to make sure that none of the frothy foam had lingered there.

"Right…..I am enjoying this ale and this company, but, Felix, I am rather curious about your inquiry aimed at the lovely Miss Daae."

Felix nodded; "Excellent observation, Jean. And I am curious for her response."

Victoria sighed when she felt two pairs of eyes fall on her, and shrugged: "I don't know. It's the same answer I gave you before."

"Could it be jealousy?"

"Jealousy?" Victoria asked, eyes widening, "But for heaven's sake, why?"

"Well, you are a rather good singer, and you are older than Christine."

"Christine? Why would I possibly be jealous of Christine? She only has a beautiful voice and a wonderful, handsome rich man that has fallen at her feet. She's also a new celebrity. Why on earth would I be jealous?" Victoria asked, while rolling her eyes and taking another sip of ale.

Felix nodded. "I knew it."

Jean sighed: "Victoria….."

"Don't 'Victoria' me, Jean. I've done everything for her. I am the one who taught her how to read music, not Father. Father only ignited her passion for it. No matter how sweet she may seem, she is actually quite selfish."

"Christine, selfish? Are you sure you're completely alright, my dear?" Felix asked with a smirk.

"Oh, Christine is incredibly selfish. Although I love her with all my heart, we sometimes don't get along that well. As much as I loathe the job, I have to take care of her. I don't really have much of a choice there."

Jean shrugged: "That still doesn't explain why you're jealous."

"I've just told you, Jean. I don't even know if it can truly be considered jealousy."

"You need to realize what you can do that she can't, Victoria."

"He's right," Felix confirmed, "The Opera Populaire hasn't seen a more talented cellist, pianist, and composer in a very long time. No one in the pit or on the stage can rival your elegance or beauty."

Victoria blushed under her friend's praise. "Thank you, Felix."

"You're most welcome. Everyone deserves to hear their accolades once and awhile."

Jean smiled, nodded, and changed the subject: "Do either of you know what the next show will be?"

Felix rolled his eyes and said: "I sure don't, but I'm sure Reyer's little pet over here does."

"Hey," Victoria said, giving his arm a smack, "I know no more than either of you do. Reyer trusts me with keys, but not with knowledge."

"I'm surprised that you haven't married the man….."

"Me, marry him? You are the one going rapidly insane, Felix, not I." Victoria laughed.

"It could be a suitable match."

"Hush. Jean. He's so old."

"But he's a musical genius! And despite what you may think, I do know that you like your geniuses, Victoria."

"I do Felix," Victoria replied, "But they are few and far between. A true musical genius has not the ability of his brain to compose, but has the ability of his heart to compose."

"Gee, I would think it would be both…."

"Don't be smart, Jean." Victoria warned, receiving a laugh from her friends.

For about another hour, the friends drank and chatted merrily, each insulting the other and just having a wonderful time. After each paying a part of the bill, they left the pub together, emerging on the Paris streets once again.

Despite the late hour of the night, the city was just as awake and alive as it was during the day. Cafes and shops lined the street, and boats glide along the river, lined with elegant lights. People were dressed in their evening's best, and nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. Deciding to stay out a little longer, the friends took the long way back to the Opera Populaire.

However, in due time, they parted, each going their separate ways after bidding one another goodnight. Victoria began the long climb to her room, and wearily took the key out of her pocket. After turning the key, she entered the room. All was dark except for moonlight coming through the window. Sighing due to exhaustion, she turned around and slid the key in the door to lock it. Once it was done, and before she turned around, she heard a deep voice, causing her head to snap up.

"You've finally decided to return, I see, Miss Daae."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you thank you thank you for all those lovely reviews :) Now, just keep them coming, s'il vous plait. **

**Chapter 8**

Victoria's blue eyes snapped up to the level of the door and grew wide. A voice. Someone or something was in her room. Unintentionally, she began to tremble as she held the key at the level of the lock. "Wh-wh-who's there?"

"Don't sound so frightened, my dear."

"Who are you? Why have you come?" After she almost shouted her last words, she felt that possessive feeling of coldness surround her, and it seemed to pull her towards the sound of the voice.

The voice erupted into a deep, cool laugh. "Oh, Miss Daae, don't seem so surprised."

Victoria gulped, as the coldness was not the only thing wanting to pull her towards the voice. Her legs wanted to move and carry her over to the man in the room. His voice was smooth, flowing, and sweet like honey, yet there was a tinge of venom laced into it. Although it was so soothing to the ear, the voice frightened her. "You still haven't answered me! Who are you?"

"I thought you were informed that I would be coming."

"Monsieur Reyer does not send mysterious men into my bed chambers at all hours of the night!"

"I wouldn't be here if you did not want me to be here." The voice answered.

Victoria could feel annoyance brewing inside of her, and she exhaled in order to keep her sanity in check. "Well if I don't know who you are, how am I supposed to know if I want you to be here or not?"

"Oh, my dear, you are terribly mistaken. You knew I was to be sent to you long ago."

Victoria gasped, as she finally realized who he was. "Y-you're the Angel of Music?"

A deep, melodious laugh filled the room. "Don't be so surprised." Victoria's heart began to race as the voice came closer. Obviously, he was moving closer to her, and as a result, she moved closer to the wooden door that stood between her and the freedom of the hallway outside. "Now," The voice began, this time directly behind Victoria. She shrieked as she barely saw a hand encased in a black glove reach forward and snatch the key from her. "We won't be needing this."

"Please," Victoria whispered, about to cry, "Please, don't hurt me."

"Oh no, no, no. You're terribly mistaken once again. I wouldn't dream of hurting you, mon belle violoncelliste . Relax." Victoria, as much as she wanted to think and escape, was too enthralled with the man's voice to care. _His beautiful cellist. _

Not a moment later, she felt his hands on her shoulders and his breath on her neck. "There. Is that better?"

Victoria nodded and moaned, closing her eyes in order to get closer to the voice. "What's your name?"

"That, you will find out in due time." He whispered, before abruptly turning her around and slamming her against the door.

Victoria let out a shriek, and struggled to get away: "You promised you wouldn't hurt me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a man of my word. Do you trust me?"

Victoria whimpered again, growing more and more anxious to be free of his grasp. When she did so, however, he yelled again: "Do you trust me?"

It seemed as if her mouth moved on its' own without any thought as Victoria uttered the word: "Yes."

Immediately, the man let go of her neck, and she was able to breathe normally again. The next thing she felt was a hand envelope her wrist. Before she could mutter a word of protest, she was being led across the floor of her bedroom, towards the windows, which were slightly open, allowing the curtains to blow in the breeze.

"Now. Be a good girl, will you? No screaming?"

Once again, without thinking, Victoria agreed. "Come into the light. Let me see your face, Angel."

"No!" he hissed, the venom leaking out of his voice. "You will see me soon enough."

Victoria nodded: "I'm sorry, Angel."

"Good girl. I never knew you had it in you, Victoria Daae."

"Had what in me?"

"A streak of rebellion."

Victoria huffed: "Of course I have a streak of rebellion. How else do you think I managed to live with my sister all these years?"

"Christine? Foolish young girl, really. Too naïve."

Victoria sighed: "She means well, she just goes about it the wrong way. Isn't she who you want? The one with the beautiful voice?'

"No." The voice stated, while leading Victoria over to the right side of the room, beside her dresser. Waving an arm, the wall lurched, and it opened to reveal a dank passageway lit by torches on the wall. "I want you."

**Sorry it's so short. Things have been rough around here. I appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Merci beaucoup, mes amis! Je t'aime! Keep those reviews, alerts, and favorites coming. I appreciate every single one. This quick update is a present for the many reviews I received on the last chapter. Maybe this could become regular…?**

**Chapter 9**

_I want you._ The Angel's words still lingered in Victoria's mind as he led her by the hand down the passageway. Victoria Daae was absolutely enthralled. So enthralled, as a matter of fact, that she didn't hear the scraping of the wall on the floor as it closed behind the travelers, shutting them away from the outside world of the Opera Populaire.

The only noise that could be heard was the steady click of Victoria's shoes as she followed the mysterious man without a second thought. Something about him called to her, and for some reason, she felt safe with him.

"Well, do you speak or not, Miss Daae?"

Victoria jumped slightly at the sound and tone of his voice and apologized immediately. "I'm sorry."

The Angel of Music grumbled and continued to press on, his grip on Victoria's hand growing tighter. At that point, they had descended some stone steps which were almost destroyed, and were now on a lower level. Victoria couldn't help but notice the continuity of the exquisite architecture that was present in the main entrance hall of the Opera Populaire, down in the very catacombs of the same building.

"Why must you grab my hand so tightly?" Victoria asked rather innocently, as her wrist was becoming sore due to the angle that he was pulling her hand from.

Without warning, he spun around, the torch he was carrying at last illuminated his face, and Victoria couldn't help but gasp. His face was well-defined, and had rather sharp features, almost sinister looking ones. The only puzzling thing was the presence of a white mask that covered the entire left side of his face, and she could clearly see his furrowed brow and scowl, telling her that she had asked the wrong question. "And why must you ask so many questions?"

Victoria bowed her head, and the man turned around again, continuing to walk. When she took the opportunity to look up, she finally had the chance to study the man that was leading her around. He was tall, and very well built, clad in all black with an equally black cape swirling around his body as he moved. Jet black hair was present at the top of his head, adding even greater contrast to the pure white mask that covered his face. At once, Victoria realized that the Angel of Music, the Opera Ghost, and the Phantom of the Opera all had to be the same individual, and this individual was the one leading her into unknown territory. Her breath hitched in her throat as she began to have second thoughts about following him, but, as soon as they began, they ended, as his melodious voice spoke to her once more. "I hope you like it here."

Victoria grimaced a bit and answered hastily: "It's nice…..why do you tell me this?"

"Why else would I bring you down here?"

"With all due respect, you're confusing me, Angel." Victoria said honestly, as they reached a murky looking lake, with a gondola tied to a post that was sticking out of the water.

The Phantom walked ahead of Victoria, and helped her into the gondola before getting in, grabbing the oar, untying the boat, and answering her question. "But it will be your home of course."

The boat moved slowly down the stream, as Victoria was still trying to comprehend what he had just said to her. _Her home._ "But…my home is the Opera Populaire…"

"Is it?"

"Why, yes, it is."

"Isn't your home somewhere else?"

Victoria furrowed her brow, trying to comprehend what was being said to her. "I really don't understand."

"Your home is wherever your heart is, is it not?"

"No…."

"Then how come you yourself always say that your home is wherever music is in your life, and therefore, in your heart?"

Victoria was silenced by his statement as they approached a large gate that slowly rise up from the water, revealing a room where the lake ended. Still in silence, the Phantom halted the boat and helped Victoria out, then tied the gondola up so it wouldn't move. "How do you know I said that? I was speaking to Felix, not you."

The Phantom untied his cloak and threw it on a nearby chair before answering: "You'd be surprised about how much I know of you and your little juvenile acquaintances."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Victoria hissed, angered that her friends were called 'juvenile'.

He laughed. "What it means is that they simply have no talent."

"They do too! Felix is a wonderful violinist, and Jean is equally talented at Viola!"

"Ah, they may have talent playing instruments, but does that mean they truly understand music?"

"Of course it does!" Victoria exclaimed, getting frustrated with this man, who could argue his point without a slight change in facial expression. "You have to understand music to play an instrument!"

"You have to truly understand music to play it? Or do you just have to be able to read it to play it?"

Victoria was silenced by the Phantom's words. She watched as he walked back over to her. The room they were in was a montage of several pieces of furniture, candlesticks, and a grand piano with sheet music strewn across its' top. The candlesticks provided a dim, yet steady light, as Victoria waited for him to speak again.

"Now. You asked me how I know so much. The answer is that I have been watching you, Miss Daae."

Victoria gulped.

When he saw the change in her facial expression, the Phantom laughed heartily: "Do not worry. This ordeal will be beneficial….for me at least."

"What ordeal? What are you speaking of?"

"Oh, my dear, do you not understand?"

"Understand what?" Victoria asked harshly, as she was getting sick of being kept in the dark.

"Understand that you are now my prisoner and will act as such."

Victoria gasped: "Prisoner! You have absolutely no right to do this to me! Who do you think you are?"

"Oh, I know full well who I am," the Phantom began while proceeding to walk towards his piano. Taking a seat, he looked at her, and finished with: "The question is, do you know who you're dealing with? You will be mine, Victoria Daae, and as much as you try to struggle and escape, I will always win. Always."

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi…no, I haven't forgotten about this….I meant to update it awhile ago, last month actually, but time ran away from me like it always does. Annnnyways, I have a lovely number of favorites and alerts on this story, I'd be a very happy author if all you silent readers would leave me a little something. Remember when I got lots of reviews for one chapter and I updated two days later? Yeah? Well, leave a review and that will happen all the time, mkay? Deal? Deal.**

**And now, presenting….**

**Chapter 10**

Victoria's blue eyes turned to ice as she stood with her mouth slightly open, looking at the Angel of Music with anger and surprise. She furrowed her brow and began to say: "You always win? Who in the name of heaven do you think-?" 

The Phantom briefly turned to her and offered a sly grin before turning back to his music without saying a word. Within seconds, he began to play a haunting melody that was quite fitting for both the setting and the situation.

"Ugh!" Victoria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and turning around so she was facing the lake. With long, determined strides, she made her way towards the murky water, not even bothering to look back at the handsome man playing piano or at the beautiful candlesticks in the room.

"And just where do you think you are going, Mademoiselle?"

Just hearing the sound of his arrogant voice made Victoria's blood boil as she stopped in her tracks. Without even turning around to acknowledge his inquiry, she unwillingly replied: "Away."

"So soon? We were just getting to know each other."

It was then that Victoria lost her temper. Anyone who was close to Victoria knew that her temper was like a firework-once the fuse was lit, it was just a matter of time before she exploded. Poor Felix knew that fact first hand. Spinning around quickly on a heel, she looked at him harshly and yelled: "Who the hell do you think you are?"

The Phantom continued to coolly play the piano, seemingly unaware of the change in Victoria's mood. "Your use of vulgar language is not necessary, or appropriate for that matter."

"So you think I'm going to be your prisoner and do whatever you want? What kind of world are you living in?" 

"My own."

"And that's your problem!" Victoria exclaimed.

"Ah, I understand now."

"No you don't. You lie," Victoria began before turning again towards the lake, "Now I'm really leaving. I'm done with you, done with listening to you, and I'm done with this place!"

"And, how do you aim to get back?"

That statement caused Victoria to stop in her tracks. How to get back, she hadn't thought of that. "Well…...," she stammered, "I will walk."

"Where? There's water, no path."

"I'll walk through the water if I have to!" she exclaimed, taking a step towards it.

Her exclamation was not met with a response, but with an action. The Phantom rose from the piano bench and walked over to the wall, where there was a rusty, protruding lever. With a strong hand, he pushed it down, and an old, rusty gate descended from the ceiling in order to seal off the room, preventing any route of escape. "Now, tell me something Mademoiselle Daae…..what would you do in that world without your cello?"

"What?"

"You heard. I thought that replacing your portfolio earlier was enough warning, but when I proved to be wrong, I took your instrument in order to get your attention."

Finally giving up the idea of escape, Victoria walked towards the piano once again, and leaned on it while asking: "Why did you feel the need to take my personal possessions?"

"Well, I am your angel of course, we have those rights." He grinned while sitting at the piano once more.

"What have you done with them?"

He grinned as her pulled out the black portfolio from inside his cloak. Victoria let out a sigh of relief, and the Phantom said: "You're quite good."

"At what?"

"Your warm-up exercises and compositions. You're talented."

Victoria allowed a slight blush to grace her cheeks as she accepted the Angel's complement. "Thank you. Now, about my instrument."

"Ah, yes, you'll find that in time."

"In time? How long is that exactly? We have a performance tomorrow night."

Upon hearing Victoria speak, the Phantom laughed heartily.

"What?"

More laugther.

"What?" Victoria demanded again, fearing she would lose her temper again if she wasn't careful.

"What you don't understand is that you won't be back tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that."

"So I'll be back the day after that? Lovely." Victoria commented, rolling her eyes.

The Phantom, sensing her sarcasm, laughed: "Follow me."

"For what reason? Not until you've told me where my cello is."

He rose and said: "It is here. Trust me. You must trust me. Do you?"

Victoria thought for a good minute before answering: "I suppose I'll have to, won't I."

"Yes. If you trust me, I'll trust you. We need to get this job done as quickly and efficiently as possible."

Victoria began to follow the Phantom, as he had begun to walk when he was speaking. "What job?" 

"Tomorrow. Today was a long day. This is your room." He said, making a grand weeping motion with his arms. With a gentle hand, Victoria pulled back a red velvet curtain to reveal a large room with a bed in the shape of a swan in the middle.

"Oh my…." Victoria gasped, walking in. The beauty of the room was immense, far exceeding the beauty of the outside. The walls were a rustic stone, and the candles in the room added the perfect light. In the corner was a red velvet chair, and in the opposite corner was a large armoire, with a music box on top of it.

"I hope you find it satisfactory."

"Satisfactory? It's wonderful!" Victoria gushed.

"So perhaps I'm not so bad after all?" he chuckled.

"I still don't know who you think you are, but it could be worse I suppose."

"Right. With that, I will leave you. Sleep well."

Victoria nodded, and just as he was about to drop the curtain over the entrance, she said: "You never told me your name."

He looked at her, his black eyes shining, and looking even darker because of the pure white mask he wore on his face. He then simply spoke: "You may call me 'Angel'."

With that, he dropped the curtain, leaving Victoria Daae alone and uncertain of what exactly to do next.

**Review please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! Here's Chapter 11. Now that fall is here, my life is a bit busier, so chapter publication will all depend on my schedule, time, and of course your support and reviews :)**

**Chapter 11**

Felix Brouchard took a long puff of his cigar as he looked out the window of his room down to the back lots of the Opera Populaire. It was definitely past midnight, perhaps even past one, but he didn't care. His mind was elsewhere.

Ever since he was young, Felix had always been the peculiar type, asking ridiculous questions that no one seemed to care about. He was exceedingly talented in music at an early age, and unfortunately, his parents weren't exactly the type that nurtured his love for the violin. Therefore, Felix's life hadn't exactly been a textbook one, as he always seemed to be in some predicament. This time, his predicament involved the cellist of Reyer's orchestra.

Felix remembered the day they had first met, over ten years ago, and he remembered the day he had begun to fall in love with her, which was, oddly enough, the day she first showed up at the Opera Populaire.

_It was a cool autumn day in Paris, France with plenty of the usual activity that went on in a big city. People were late to work, nannies took children for daily walks, and women went into the various boutiques in order to see which gloves or hats were the new arrivals. Everything ran smoothly like usual, and nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary._

_ A covered carriage pulled up to the back lots of the Opera Populaire, and was immediately tended to by the stablemen. It was of a medium size, nothing too spectacular, and the horse pulling it appeared to be rather old and sickly. The footman opened the door and the ballet instructor, Madame Giry, was the first to exit, before helping two young girls out of the carriage._

_ Felix Brouchard had just finished practicing a sonata he was told to practice by Maestro Reyer, his private teacher, and had wandered down to the stables to pet the horses like he usually did every morning. However, once he arrived, the stables seemed abnormally hectic, and he looked farther down the aisle of horses to see a carriage being unloaded. Curious, he walked forward slowly, carefully staying out of everyone's way, and arrived close enough to the carriage to see just as it was finished being unloaded. _

_ He recognized the ballet instructor, Madame Giry, but he did not recognize the children with her. Two young girls, hand in hand, stood behind her and looked around at the new scenery._

_ "Victoria?" one of the young girls chirped up._

_ "Yes, Christine?" the taller of the two asked._

_ "Is this our house now?"_

_ Madame Giry smiled at the girls as the one called Victoria answered: "Yes, Christine. This is our home now. Isn't it beautiful?"_

_ The littler girl nodded excitedly as the footman walked past with her luggage._

_ "Victoria?"_

_ The older girl turned to face the voice and asked: "Yes, Madame Giry?"_

_ "Gaston here is taking your cello inside, but could you take your portfolio? He can't carry much more than he already has."_

_ "Certainly." The girl answered curtly, taking the black object from Madame Giry's outstretched hand. _

_ "Good. I need to head on inside and speak with the Maestro. When Gaston comes back, he will guide you to your rooms. Good luck, dears."_

_ "Merci, Madame."_

_ Giry smiled a motherly smile as she walked away, leaving the two girls. Felix had been studying them, and through observation, he had made some conclusions. The taller one, Victoria, was obviously older, and looked to be about twelve. The other young girl, Christine, looked to be around six, and through the way they acted towards each other, Felix knew that the girls must have been sisters._

_ "Christine! Stay here, I'm going to find Gaston!" Victoria called. Her little sister nodded, and Victoria walked forward, still holding her portfolio. Out of nowhere, a gust of wind came whipping through, and blew a few pieces of parchment paper out of the black portfolio that Victoria carried. Without a seconds' delay, Felix bolted out of his hiding place to help the girl chase the papers. After collecting a few, he approached her. She knelt on the ground, trying to put all her papers back in order, all the while getting more and more frustrated by the second. _

_ "Mademoiselle?" Felix asked. _

_ Once she heard his voice, she looked up at him. What Felix saw was the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Slender it was, with deep blue eyes,rosy cheeks, and luscious lips. Surrounding the face were slight brown curls that brought out blue eyes that naturally popped to begin with. She smiled at him and accepted the papers: "Merci, Monsieur."_

_ Felix, being a gentleman, offered his hand, which she took to get up. As she brushed off her dress, Felix asked: "Are you new here?"_

_ "Yes, yes we are."_

_ "I couldn't help but overhear, you're a cellist?"_

_ Victoria nodded with a slight smile. _

_ "Well hopefully you'll join us in the orchestra. My name's Felix Brouchard. I play violin. What's your name?"_

_ "Victoria Daae." The girl answered, with a note of sorrow in her voice. _

_ "Daae! Your father is one of my idols! He is magnificent!"_

_ A silent tear ran down Victoria's cheek as she replied: "My Father is dead. We're here because we are orphans. Madame Giry was kind enough to offer my sister a place in the ballet training academy, and I am to take lessons and eventually give them when I'm old enough."_

_ Felix was stricken. "Oh….I'm sorry to hear about your Father."_

_ "Thank you."_

_ "Well, do you and your sister need help getting settled?"  
_

_ "I believe Gaston will help, but thank you." Victoria replied._

_ "Alright. Well, I will see you around, I guess?"_

_ Victoria nodded._

_ "Okay, see you later, and keep a tight hold on that portfolio, you hear?" Felix winked with a grin, as he waved and walked away._

_ Victoria Daae couldn't help but smile, as she had just found her first friend in Paris._

Felix couldn't help but laugh at their childish behavior. When they weren't practicing, they would spend every waking moment together, running around and having fun, until they both got too old. When that time came, it all turned into work and there was no time for play. Victoria began to teach lessons, and he began to practice and compose like mad. Despite that fact that time wasn't on their side, the two managed to stay best friends, confiding mostly everything to each other. As they continued to get older, certain circumstances proved to be difficulties in their friendship, including Felix's love of women. Not one specific woman, women in general. Although they were his decisions, Felix never mentioned or thought of them. He was generally too embarrassed to admit that many a lady had been into his small room at the Opera Populaire.

A gust of wind that made the window creak brought Felix back to the real world. Extinguishing his cigar, he walked around his small room, rearranging things as he went along. Although the room was small, it was relatively clean, and Felix had always been proud of that.

No matter how much he tried, Felix could not remove Victoria's face or voice from his mind, and so, he decided to go see if he was the only one who couldn't go to sleep.

The halls were dark and all was quiet as Felix made his way to Victoria's room. Once he got close, he grinned when he saw a dim light escaping from a slight crack in between the two doors. Looking around to make sure no one was there, he knocked softly on the door: "Victoria?"

Felix waited for a few moments before trying again: "Victoria, it's Felix. Open up."

When still no answer came, Felix decided to try the doorknob. He knew there wasn't a good chance he would get in, but he was desperate to see her, so he figured he would give it a try.

With a careful hand, he turned the doorknob and much to his surprise, the door slid open. Smirking, he entered, and shut the door behind him while saying: "You couldn't sleep either, huh?"

No answer.

"Victoria? Come on, enough with the games. It's me!"

When Felix still received no answer, he turned his back to the door and looked about the room to no avail. Victoria was not in her bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for reviews, but I have more than 20 alerts, guys….if you like the story that much to sign up for an e-mail when I update it you can spend five seconds to leave me something. I have a random spurt of inspiration that could last a week or several, so leave some reviews and I'll pump out the chapters! **

**Chapter 12**

Making sure the doors were secured and closed, Felix pressed farther into Victoria's bedroom. His keen eye looked around carefully for any evidence of where she was, or even if she had been in her room. It all seemed ridiculous, as only a few hours before, they had enjoyed ale at the pub with Jean-Claude. There was no way Victoria was gone.

Felix's eyes opened wide as he took a step and felt something crush under his feet. Looking down, he realized he had stepped on a letter, and he immediately moved his foot in order to pick it up. The parchment was dated a few weeks before, and the script was elegant, the sign of an executive or a noble of some sort. Felix noticed that the letter was also addressed to Victoria, and from scanning it, he was able to summarize the letter. Not only was it a cordial invitation to leave the Opera Populaire, it was a cordial invitation to join a promising crew at a new opera house in Brazil that was supposed to be constructed within the next few years.

Felix's face turned into a large frown as he promptly dropped the letter to where it first rested on the floor. First, he had to find Victoria, then he would ask her about her intentions to leave Paris, and finally, he would convince her to stay.

Throughout his search of the room, he found things of various shapes and sizes, values, and creativity. There were many flowers scattered about, most of them dead, as they were tokens from her many admirers in the guests that came to performances. One bouquet he recognized instantly, however, was the dozen roses he gave to her after the last opera's gala night. The flowers were now dead, but they still remained on her desk, with the stray dried petal falling onto the numerous papers stacked up.

After exiting Victoria's room empty-handed, he decided to make is way down to the chapel, another place she could be. Ever since he had accidentally disrupted her prayers a few years before, Felix knew that Victoria liked to travel down there when things were troubling her.

The halls were dark, dank, and desolate as Felix made his way down the winding staircase to the chapel. Holding a candle, he was just able to see the stairs in front of him in order to walk without falling. The descent was not long, and before long, he opened the door to the chapel. His heart immediately sank when he realized Victoria was not in the secluded place of prayer. Deciding to rest and regroup his thoughts, Felix sat on a ledge by the stained glass window, and closed his eyes. His peace did not last long, however, as a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"_I have her, there is nothing you can do to save her now…."_

Felix's eyes opened wide upon hearing the ominous sounding voice. Unintentionally, he huddled closer to the wall as he spoke: "Who's there?"

_"Why Monsieur Brouchard, you are rather skittish, are you not?"_

Felix got more nervous by the second, as it wasn't everyday that creepy voices serenaded him in the early hours of the morning…in a chapel nonetheless. "Whom do you have?"

_"La belle violoncellist."_

_ The beautiful cellist. Victoria._ Felix thought, as he began to sweat. "What have you done to her?"

_"I haven't done anything to her, as you say it. She has simply moved on. I'm sorry you never got a chance to say good-bye…."_

"Wait, what?"

_"Normally, I do try and arrange farewells, but in this particular case it didn't work that way."_

Now instead of getting nervous, Felix was becoming angry. Angry that this voice was deliberately taunting him, and angry that this voice knew where Victoria was. "What have you done? Where is she?"

The voice chuckled before continuing: _"Monsieur, it would be wise of you to remain as calm as possible….."_

Felix jumped up from where he was sitting and explained: "How am I supposed to be calm? How? You've taken her prisoner, haven't you? You foul, unworthy, vile, repulsive human being!"

_"Who said I was human?"_ the voice asked before erupting into fits of laughter again.

Before Felix could come up with a retort, his eyes noticed a small glow reflecting off the wall of the stairwell, and with what was happening, it took him a few seconds to realize that the light was from a candle, and the person carrying that candle was Madame Giry.

"Hello? Is there someone down here…? Ah. Monsieur Felix!"

"Bon matin, Madame."

Pressing further into the room, Giry looked Felix up and down: "For heaven's sake, boy, what are you doing down here at this hour of the morning?"

"Looking for Victoria, I can't seem to find her anywhere."

"Did you check the orchestra pit?"

Felix shook his head as he mentally cursed himself for not checking there.

With a motion of the head, Giry beckoned Felix to follow her, and they slowly proceeded up the stairwell together. "Madame Giry?" Felix asked, somewhat timidly.

"Oui?"

"Is there really an Opera Ghost?"

Giry chuckled as they made it up the steps: "Of course there is an Opera Ghost, Felix."

"I thought he was only a legend."

"Can a legend write music? Can a legend demand a salary? Can a legend kill the spirit?"

"I suppose not."

"There! You said it yourself. He's real."

Felix sighed as they walked into the main auditorium. The scene was very different from earlier that night, as the room was pitch black, and the gold rim of the seats could barely be seen. "Uhhh…Madame?"

"Yes?"

"I highly doubt she is in here."

Giry agreed, and held the candle low enough to light their path out. "So now I guess the question is when is the last time you saw her?"

"She went out for food with Jean and I." Felix answered honestly.

Giry nodded, thinking, and then asked: "Where did she go after you got back?"

"Her room, if I'm not mistaken."

As soon as she heard Felix's reply, Giry stopped dead in her tracks. "Her room?"

"Yes, Madame."

Giry slowly turned around and looked at Felix before asking: "Tell me, Monsieur Brouchard, does her room have a rather large mirror?"

**Please review! I know, I know, plotless chapters….but they're kind of necessary….bear with me!**e was upset that this voice wasHe bhgdea"ghfe'i


	13. Chapter 13

**Yes, it's been over a month, I understand. I have gained more alerts over that time though, so that makes me happy :) Now if you silent people would leave me something, we'd be BFFs forever. Haha. Enjoy the next installment.**

**Chapter 13**

Felix nodded, and gasped as Madame Giry sped past him, so fast that he could feel a rush of wind follow her. "Madame! Madame, I'm afraid I don't understand you!"

"You will in time, Monsieur Brouchard." Giry replied rather calmly, still walking at a rather fast pace. So fast, in fact, that they reached Victoria's secluded room within two minutes.

The door was slightly ajar, as Felix had left it, and Madame Giry slowly inched her way in, the candle held high above her head. "Monsieur, keep your hand at the level of your eyes." She whispered, while pressing further into the room.

"What?"

"Just do it!" Giry hissed vehemently, while moving the candle around to see more of the room.

Knowing that she was in no mood to be trifled with, Felix obeyed, and carefully followed her blindly.

Madame Giry, once she located the mirror, crept over to it, and studied it for a few moments, before reaching for a corner. Upon a gentle pull at the glass, the mirror slid sideways to reveal a ghostly looking passageway. "Monsieur, come. You can remove your hand."

Felix sighed with relief, as his arm had begun to cramp from holding it in the same position for a long while. With broad strides, he walked quickly to Giry. "What is it?"

"See for yourself." The older woman said, stepping aside to allow Felix to see. What he saw was the same Giry did, a dark, haunting passageway that apparently led somewhere very cold, judging from the draft that was coming through it.

"No wonder why her room is always freezing." Felix grumbled.

Giry sighed: "Well, we know who has her, at least."

"Let me guess….The Opera Ghost?"

"Precisely." Giry said, pushing the mirror back to its' original position.

"So what are you going to do, just leave her there? I'm going down there…."

"No, Monsieur!" Giry almost shrieked, "He has her now. All we can do is wait until he decides to return her to us."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was. Now come." Giry said in a motherly tone, ushering Felix out of the room before following, and shutting the door.

"Are we certain that nothing can be done? What about the authorities? They could help!"

"I said no, Monsieur. The last time we tried that, someone was killed."

"Oh…..he's a murderer."

"Yes, he is." Giry simply answered, before coming to her bedroom door and stopping.

"Then I must go after her!"

"No," Giry sighed, "If you wish to protect her, then wait. By waiting, you'll not only save her, but you'll save us all. Goodnight, Monseiur."

"Goodnight, Madame." Felix sighed, before continuing roaming about the Opera Populaire.

The next morning came quickly for Victoria, who realized that the events of the night before were indeed very real. Looking around the room she was in, she remembered everything, and, hearing the demanding chords of a piano, she slowly rose from the bed and proceeded into the main hall.

The Angel sat at the piano, in a loose, white dress shirt tucked into firm black pants. His hair was slicked back perfectly once again, and he groaned as he frantically scribbled out a few measures in a master score he was writing.

Trying to be quiet, Victoria inched farther out of her room, only to collide with something and make a rather load noise, causing him to turn around. He sighed and rolled his eyes before turning back to the keyboard.

Despite only meeting him the night before, that look of utter disgust made her heart sink, and she had no idea why. "I…I'm sorry to disturb you."

"Usually when individuals are composing, you be quiet and wait for them to finish! Now come here!" he ordered.

Deciding that he was in no mood to be trifled with, Victoria did his bidding, and soon found herself beside his piano, covered in sheet music and candles. She scanned her blue eyes over the spider-like notes he wrote on paper, and tried to make sense of them in her head. Everything was hideously minor, and rather depressing, but something about the melody enchanted Victoria in a way she never knew was humanly possible. "What are you writing?"

"If you must know, an opera. Here," he said, shoving her a few sheets of music and lyrics, "Sing."

"But….I can't sing."

"You can."

"I can't, and I won't."

Slamming a chord on the piano and making Victoria jump, he turned to her and growled: "Have you ever tried?"

"Yes!" she pleaded, "Over and over and over again!"

"Well try again."

"I warn you, I can't do it…."

"SING!" he roared, throwing music all over the place and turning rather violently toward the piano.

Unintentionally, Victoria began to cry, as she was afraid. Afraid of him, afraid of singing, afraid that she would never see the light of day again, and afraid of everything. After the piano introduction, she began to sing the words on the paper. Her voice was sky at first, but when she finally began to sing perfectly in tune, she began to become stronger.

Once she had finished the aria, she gasped, and clutched her throat. She had apparently gained her sister's incredible vocal range overnight. Perhaps this strange man really was an Angel of Music, and perhaps his intentions weren't so horrible after all.

"Who told you you couldn't sing?"

"I…I never could…."Victoria gasped, and looked at him.

The Phantom chuckled that deep, seductive chuckle, and turned back to the piano. "Now that that aria is complete….the ballet!"

"Um….Angel?"

"Yes, Miss Daae?"

"Who are you exactly?"

"I thought I told you that. I'm an Angel."

Victoria furrowed her eyebrows, and touched his shoulder. To her touch, he felt just like a human, and this caused her to become even more confused. "How are you an angel if you are human? What is your name? Where did you come from? Who are you?"

Looking upon her with his dark eyes once more, he said: "Those are things for me to know and you to discover in due time. I infer that you wouldn't appreciate me prying about your dearly departed father?"

Victoria sniffled at the mention of her father and shook her head.

"No? Good. Then don't pry into my personal life. Now, get away from me and leave me in peace."

"But…"

"GO!" he exclaimed, causing Victoria to hustle back into her room and collapse onto her bed in a fit of tears.

"Oh Father!" she cried, "Why did you send me this hell? Why?"

**Hope you enjoyed! PLEASE review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay…I get it. I deserve to die. I have horribly neglected this story. Argh. It even frustrates me. Well…my goal is to have it done by the end of the summer. Thanks for sticking with me I still have many more twists for you guys.**

**Enough of my stupid rambling. **

**Presenting….**

**Chapter 14**

Due to his late night wanderings, Felix was horribly groggy when he woke at ten the next morning. Sitting up in bed with a yawn, he stretched and rotated his neck before getting up and getting dressed. It was Saturday, and Saturday night meant gala night. Gala night was one of the things Felix loathed about the Opera Populaire. Every Saturday the richest of the rich and the best of the best would come see the show, and afterwards patter about in the main hall showing off their jewels. The only thing that had made those nights bearable for him was Victoria.

As he thought of her, his breath hitched in his throat. He remembered all Madame Giry told him, even the details he wanted to forget. As he put on his shirt, he couldn't help but glance in his mirror, which was one very similar to that of Victoria's.

His daze was interrupted by a harsh knock at the door, to which he promptly answered: "Who is it?"

"It's Raoul DeChangy."

Felix raised an eyebrow as he slowly walked over to the door and opened it, allowing the Vicomte to enter. "What brings you here, sir?"

"Quite simply, the Daae girls."

"What about them?" Felix asked, putting his overcoat on before turning to face Raoul again.

"Well," the Vicomte began hesitantly, "Strange things have been happening lately surrounding the disappearance of the eldest Miss Daae…"

"I believe we all know that, sir."

"Yes, and I need your help."

Felix scoffed: "With what?"

"Don't you want Miss Daae back?"

"Of course I do, Vicomte, but may I ask a rather appalling question?"

Raoul made a face and answered: "I suppose if you must, sir."

"Why do you care that the eldest Miss Daae is gone? She is nothing to you."

"I resent that statement, sir," Raoul began, "she is my Christine's sister, but she is also my friend."

"Ah! There it is! Christine! I'm terribly sorry Vicomte, but through all my travels and ventures I have learned to read people rather well. Don't lie to me."

"I am continuing to resent your retorts, sir."

Felix, becoming enraged at the man's ignorance, continued on: "The only reason you want Victoria back is so your little Christine will be happy again. There's no denying it, I can see it in your eyes."

"But you are Victoria's closest confidante…"

"That I am and always will be. But that still gives you no right to march in here pretending to be noble and pretending to do something for the wrong reasons."

"Brouchard, I would appreciate it if-"

"If what," Felix interrupted, "I would cooperate? No, Vicomte. I am afraid that is simply not possible."

Raoul rolled his eyes: "I also come on a matter of business. Every hour Daae is gone I'm losing money!"

"Oh, so now this is about money? Is that all you rich people care about? Money and women?"

"And opera."

Felix groaned: "Thank you for the correction, sir."

"Frankly I don't understand why you're being so insufferable, Brouchard. I am simply trying to help us both. You get Victoria back, and I get my money back."

"Sweet deal, I suppose."

Seeing the opportunity, Raoul pounced: "Ah, yes, but sweeter for whom?" 

Felix could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he chuckled: "I don't understand what you're talking about, Vicomte."

Walking closer to Felix, Raoul whispered: "Terribly sorry Brouchard, but through all my travels and ventures I've learned to read people rather well. Don't lie to me."

Felix could do nothing but scowl.

"Funny thing is, I know something you don't know."

"And what would that be?" Felix hissed.

The Vicomte chuckled as he walked towards the door: "Why, you love Miss Victoria Daae."

Victoria continued to sob on her bed for what felt like hours. She didn't know what to feel or to think. She didn't understand, nor did she want to.

Her solitude was interrupted by a harsh whisper: "What are you doing?"

She turned around with a tear-stained face to see him standing in the doorway. "Go away!"

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because," she screamed, "I hate you!"

"All you have to say is you want to leave and I'll let you go. Willingly, maybe not, but I could do it."

"Really?"

"Yes. Now stop mewling like a kitten and dry your eyes." The Angel said, in a calm voice, which surprised Victoria.

"Why are you going to let me go?"

"Because. I have no use for you anymore."

Victoria raised an eyebrow: "What?"

"You heard me. You're done. You can leave."

"Just like that?"

The Angel grinned, knowing his plan was working. "Just like that."

"But I….."

"But what, my dear?"

"I thought you wanted me to stay here all eternity?" Victoria asked.

"Bah. Eternity with you would get boring after awhile."

"Excuse me?"

With a pompous chuckle, he answered: "I meant no insult my dear. It's just that you are much to wiry. You sound like a toad when you sing and I know this for a fact. And you refuse to let me help you."

"I have not refused!"

"Well you were just in here sobbing. That is a downright refusal in my mind."

"How do you understand? How do you understand me? You shouldn't be able to. You're a spirit, a being, not even real! I'm seeing things, and I'm going insane!"

"I can assure you that is not the case. You're going insane because you're falling in love with me." The Angel simply stated.

"What? In love, with you? You're not even human! How do you know what love feels like?"

The Angel stifled a sad smile and whispered: "We are all human at some point, dear."


	15. Chapter 15

**Right. You can hurt me, its fine. I'm totally horrible for leaving this for an entire year. Charge me with criminal story neglect, please. Anyways, I have a random inspiration spurt so hopefully I'll get something done this time. Maybe. I love you all, thanks for reading and reviewing this. **

**Please continue reviewing! I hope you enjoy this! **

**Now without rambling….**

**Chapter 15**

The next thing Victoria remembered was waking up in her bed, looking towards the giant mirror that had opened only a few hours before to reveal to her the hell that resided below the Opera Populaire. Sitting up, she clutched her head in a reaction to the sudden headache that plagued her, as she looked down and realized she was still wearing the exact same clothes. In an instant fit of desperation, she turned sharply towards the mirror, and sighed of relief when she saw only her reflection, and not the mysterious man she had just met. Her thoughts shifted to him and his lair, and she wondered why on Earth he was down there, who put him there, and why he was there.

"Now, I assure you, things are perfectly safe around here," Came the voice of Firmin from just outside Victoria's bedroom. She heard the jingle of keys in his hand and the lock click before the door opened, "This disappearance just struck-Miss Daae?!"

Victoria looked at his shocked expression and dipped her head in the direction of the police officer in the room: "Inspector."

The man smiled: "Well Monsieur Firmin, it seems as if your problem has taken care of itself. Good day Monsieur, Mademoiselle."

After the inspector left, Firmin turned to Victoria with a look of pure disbelief on his face: "How? What? When?"

Victoria shrugged as she gently touched her head again: "I…I don't know. He was there. I remember it all…."

Firmin bit his lip before moving toward the rattled girl and gently helping her sit down on the bed: "Who was there?"

"The Angel of Music," she readily answered, looking at Firmin with somewhat frightened blue eyes: "I saw him. With my own eyes. He's talented, and plays lovely piano, and he's also…"

"I think you need to get some rest, Cherie," Firmin commented, gently pushing her to lay down, "Allow me to get a doctor. You seem to look quite ill."

"I'm not sick!" she protested as Firmin got up to fetch a paramedic.

Victoria sighed heavily as her thoughts turned to the experiences that kept playing over and over in her head. Why didn't he believe her? She wasn't insane. She remembered everything. His piano, his music, the dark sound of his voice….

_Stop it, Victoria, you're sounding mad for sure now._ She told herself, as she waited for Firmin to come back. When she heard footsteps clambering down the hall, she s=straightened herself up in order to look the slightest bit presentable, but instead of her expected guests, she was surprised to see Felix bound in. "Felix?"

"Victoria," he exclaimed, running over to her and embracing her in a gentle hug, "Oh, thank the Lord."

"Felix?"

"Where did you go? Why did you leave?" he demanded, worry filling his large brown eyes.

"I…didn't really choose to…"

He raised an eyebrow in confusion: "What do you mean?"

"I was taken…."

"What?!" Felix gasped, the worry intensifying in his eyes.

"Felix, please….' Victoria sighed, trying to reason with him before he exploded as usual.

Reaching out, he gently took her hand, all the while still looking at her, "Victoria. Tell me who it is. Tell me and I'll make sure they'll never harm you again. I swear it."

"Felix," she began, looking at him, "It was…_him_."

"And who is this person you speak of?"

"It was the Opera Ghost," Victoria began before getting frustrated with how Felix groaned, "I swear it Felix. It was him. He's real. The rumors are true."

Placing his palm on her forehead, Felix frowned: "You're warm."

"I'm NOT sick! I know what I saw! I saw him! In the flesh! He's a man! He talks, and plays music, and writes music, and it's beautiful…I heard it, and…."

"I have five heads." Felix finished for her with a gentle smile before kissing her hand.

"Felix…"

"Shhhhh," he soothed, "All you need to do is relax. Clearly you've been frightened out of your wits, and you need to rest. I'll inform Reyer that you're back, as well as Christine and the Vicomte."

"Thank you." Victoria said softly as Firmin re-entered with the doctor.

"Monsieur Brouchard, if you'll kindly excuse us," Firmin smiled, "I've brought a doctor for Mademoiselle Daae. We need her healthy for this evening's performance!"

"Of course, Monsieur," Felix politely nodded before turning to Victoria and whispering: "Goodbye."

"She's back?!" Madame Giry exclaimed after Felix had told his tale.

"Yes," he answered, "Does that surprise you?"

She only nodded.

"Madame?"

"Yes?" she asked, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the boy.

"You know something."

Giry sighed as her shoulders slumped. Immediately, Felix got up from his seat and walked towards her, an unknown fire present in his eyes. "You need to tell me who hurt her like this."

"I can't." Was Giry's simple reply.

Exhaling in frustration, Felix punched the nearest wooden cabinet, letting the sound resonate in the otherwise deathly quiet room. "Why not?!"

"It is not my place to tell someone else's tale."

"Oh," Felix huffed, "More about the Opera Ghost? With all due respect, Madame Giry, I think this entire residence is going crazy."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because. There is no such thing as a ghost. I've said it before, and I stand by it. Whatever is in your heads needs to get out before it drives you all insane, like I fear it has driven Victoria. There cannot be an entity in this opera house that controls you all like a puppeteer. Do you know how insane that sounds?" Felix chuckled.

After his reasoning, Giry turned towards him, face cold and expressionless. And replied: "Monsieur Brouchard. You would be wise to hold your tongue about certain trivial matters such as these. I can assure you that the Opera Ghost is very human, and very real."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"I've seen him with my own eyes." Giry answered, before briskly walking out of the room, leaving Felix alone with his mind.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for reviewing everybody! Now onwards!**

**Chapter 16**

An hour before the show, Victoria stood in her room, looking into the mirror that had opened the night before. She straightened her suit coat and fixed her hair, before grabbing her portfolio and walking out of the room.

"Victoria!"

Upon hearing Felix's voice, Victoria rolled her eyes and pressed on. After the earlier events of the day, she didn't want to be called insane again.

"Victoria, please wait."

Sighing, she stopped dead in her tracks, but did not turn around. "Yes, Felix?"

She could hear his running steps and also could hear them slow down. She also heard him take in a deep breath before speaking: "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Thinking you were insane."

At his admission, Victoria turned to face him. He was looking irresistibly handsome in his tuxedo, with his brown hair messily styled atop his head. His dark eyes began to search hers for any sign of forgiveness. "Felix, not now…."

"Yes, now!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand gently.

"Fine. Now."

"You're the most important person in the world to me," he sighed before continuing, "And I can't bear to see you hurt, or unhappy, or scared."

Victoria sighed and looked down at their entwined hands before beginning: "Felix…."

Looking around, he quickly pulled her behind a curtain where they could talk. He looked at her and said softly: "I want to listen. I need to listen. Whatever this is that's bothering you, I want to take care of it. I want to help."

Victoria looked up at him and shook her head.

"What is it?"

"I don't understand." She said simply.

Felix raised an eyebrow, fearing the worst. "What don't you understand?"

"You."

"Victoria," he said softly, pulling her into a hug, "Tell me what's troubling you. Please tell me."

"I….I can't…." she trembled as she felt tears from in her eyes. She wanted so badly to tell Felix everything. The letter about Brazil, the Opera Ghost, and how she felt about him. But she couldn't. In a way, she felt as if she were betraying her Angel by talking to him.

"Yes you can," he whispered, taking his other hand and running it through her hair: "You can tell me anything. Anything at all."

Victoria finally looked up at him and said: "How can you seem to care about me so much when you bring so many other girls here, Felix? How?"

"I…."

"Since you were in my room I guess you saw the letter." She said.

Felix nodded and replied: "Are you going, then?"

Breaking out of his embrace, Victoria shrugged: "I don't know."

"How can you do this?! Your little sister is here!"

"My little sister is no longer my concern!" Victoria said, harsher than she meant to.

"That's not true!"

"It is," Victoria snapped, "The Vicomte is who she wants! The Vicomte she'll have! She'll have money, and nice things, and everything else! She'll be in love! They'll be happy! Have a family! I don't know!"

Felix sighed as he looked at her once more, leaning against the wall, "You can have those things too."

"No! I can't! I'm an artist! A musician!"

"As am I." He said, rather calmly.

"I've chosen music as my life!" Victoria said, holding her portfolio close as she kept crying.

Felix moved slightly so he could place a hand on her shoulder: "Victoria. You don't need money to be happy. My parents were the poorest people in the world and were the happiest I've ever seen."

"My happiness may be in Brazil."

"But it could be here," he said softly, "It could be. France has been your home for years, Victoria. The opera has been your life. You have amazing talent. You could become head of this place someday if you wanted. Write operas, show everyone what you're made of."

"I have a month to answer."

"Then please don't. Not yet. For me?"

Looking over her shoulder, she slightly nodded. "Yes. I'll wait to answer."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Felix smiled a bit and offered his arm to Victoria: "Come on. We've got a show to play and a party afterwards. Let's knock 'em out."

"Okay." She smiled, drying her eyes, as she let Felix lead her out from behind the curtain. Little did she know that their conversation wasn't as private as she thought.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi everybody! I am doing my best to keep getting ideas for this….**

**Chapter 17**

Forced to borrow another instrument because hers was still being held captive, Victoria played through the production half-heartedly. Part of this sensation was because the instrument she held was not her own, and the other had to do with the fact that her earlier conversation with Felix was still on her mind.

What kind of man was he? To try and tell her he had feelings for her, while trying to make excuses at the same time? She looked under Reyer's arms for him, only to find that he was unnaturally absorbed in the ballet they were currently playing. He usually at least had a smile or a wink for her—but there was nothing at that moment.

Standing ovations she was accustomed to, as the orchestra took their bows after the performers on stage did. Since it was a Gala Night, the instrumentalists filed out of the pit in order to secure their instruments before going to join the party. Victoria walked alone up to the tower, turning the key before walking in and putting her borrowed cello back onto the practice rack. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Felix leaning against the door frame.

"Are we going to talk about this?" He asked, his voice not as strong as usual.

Victoria shrugged: "Depends on you."

Felix sighed and looked down: "You know how important you are to me."

Victoria looked over at him from the rack: "I do, yes."

"Then why do you dismiss me?"

"Felix," she began, walking towards him, "You've had years to tell me all this. Years. Now when I get a big break and finally get a chance to be happy, you drop this on me. It isn't fair."

"But are you denying it?"

"Denying what?" She asked him.

"That you have feelings for me? 

Victoria sighed and looked down: "I am not."

"Then why do you want to leave?" 

She turned and looked towards the window, which was only showing light from the streetlamps below: "Because. I feel like I have to. There is nothing for me here anymore. It is the same routine. Get up, practice, get new parts thrown at you, and play them. If I was to be promoted, I would have been so already."

Felix sighed as he walked over to stand beside her: "Are you certain leaving is what you want?"

"I've thought of it, and I think it is, yes."

"Then I will leave with you." Felix promised her.

"Wha-?" She asked, looking up at him, somewhat puzzled.

"If you choose to leave. I will too. I will follow you to the ends of the Earth, Victoria I swear. We won't have money, we won't have assets, but we'll be happy. I thought that's what you wanted? Or at least that's what you used to say to me."

Victoria couldn't help but smile as she could remember the two of them as children running through the nearby hills and imagining the great things that their lives would amount to. Part of her thought that she never left her childhood—as she was still living in the same building, and doing the exact same job. "It is what I want, Felix. To be happy."

'Then we can have that," he told her softly, "Don't you see?"

She sighed and nodded: "I think I do, yes."

"Then why don't we enjoy tonight, and tell Reyer tomorrow?"

"That will be a fun event….' She sighed as she rolled her eyes.

Felix gently took her hand, "Come then. I still have to dance with you."

Looking up at him, she briefly smiled and nodded: "You do, don't you?"

**This is a really short one to tide you guys over until I get the next long one done….which will maybe be tonight.**

**Enjoy!**


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